Shelter From the Storm
by GhostOfAMelody
Summary: Sometimes the dividing line between good and bad isn't always clear. Sometimes the people you align yourself with are the ones who blur it. And sometimes the storm itself is safer than the shelter you seek from it.
1. Chapter 1

So I think this'll be classified as a UA, I'm not really following the plot of The Winter Soldier, but I hope things will become more clear as it goes on.

I've had this story kicking around for a while and just started adding to it again, so I figured I might as well post it. I'm not super knowledgeable about the Marvel universe so try not to burn me too bad for any mistakes, but if they are glaringly obvious just mention it and I'll try and fix it.

I only own my own characters, anything else belongs to its respective companies.

Please review if you can.

Here we go!

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"Ilse? I-i-i-llyy? Where are you?" My best friend Hannah's piercing voice reached my ears and I watched as she drifted out of the crowd, spotting me almost instantly. She was clutching a large martini glass in one hand and wearing her signature shit eating grin. She bumped into a few people on her way over to my table and giggled a few apologies before nearly knocking her chair over trying to sit in it.

"So, you won't believe it, but I just found you the perfect man." She slurred and was dangerously close to spilling her drink. I wondered how many of those she had had already.

"Oh really? Who?" I replied dully. At some point in her friendship she had made it her goal to find me the perfect husband. She had yet to succeed and I had yet to care.

"He's just over...there!" She pointed in a seemingly random direction and I followed her finger until my gaze landed on a man. He was,

No. Just no.

"Really, Hannah? He looks about eighty!" I whined and she giggled again.

"He's not _that_ bad. He's a history prof at the university so he's right up your alley!"

"You talked to him? Oh please tell me you didn't mention me!"

"Only in passing. He seems interested in you so you should take that as a compliment." Her words stung a little but I blamed the alcohol.

"No! Look, we should get out of here. You've had way too many martinis and it's getting late." I didn't mention that I hadn't even wanted to be here in the first place. Stuffy university functions were not my scene and I hated having to be DD. Hannah had begged me endlessly to come until I had finally agreed to go. In the end it was just a waste of a good hair day.

"But they're just gonna do the raffles for the door prizes! C'mon Illy, I wanna see if I've won anything!" She pouted at me and my heart softened a bit. We had been friends since we were 14 and ten years later were still inseparable. Even with all her flaws I could never be mad at her for long.

"Fine, I'll go start the car and wait for you around front. Just track me down when you're done!" I sighed and stood up, grabbing my purse and coat from the back of the chair.

"Love you! I won't be longer than ten minutes, I swear!" She jumped up and headed into the crowd that was gathering around the front stage. I caught a glimpse of her orange dress before she was swallowed up by the mob. It was the last time I ever saw her alive.

Cursing my decision to wear high heels, I pushed my way through the crowd and headed out the front. I wasn't thirty feet from the doors when a massive explosion rocked the building and knocked me to the ground. I threw my arms around my head as debris rained down onto the street. It lasted about twenty seconds and I barely managed to pull myself to my feet afterwards. My ears rang and my head was killing me but I only cared about one thing.

Hannah.

I staggered my way back towards the building, not paying attention to the collapsed walls or flames that reached out of the broken windows. I could hear myself screaming her name but it sounded echoey and far away.

"Freeze!" A much clearer voice said from behind me. I turned slowly on the spot to face a man in full riot gear pointing a gun at me. It had one of those sniper laser pointers on it and the red dot was aimed directly at my chest.

"My friend, she's still in there! I have to go get her!" I cleared my throat and the ringing in my ears lessened slightly. I took a step towards him and he placed his fingers over the trigger.

"I said don't move!" He sounded panicked. I became dumbly aware of the fact that I was gonna die. This man was going to kill me and I wouldn't see my twenty fifth birthday. I would never finish my degree, never start a family or buy my own house. The perfect man would never be found, because not only was Hannah dead but I was going to be too. Before I could dwell too much on that, a round object came spinning from behind me and hit the guy straight in the head before bouncing back and heading towards me. An arm shot out from over my left shoulder and caught it just inches from my face. I blinked a few times and the object in front of me came into focus; it was a shield. I recognized the pattern instantly.

"Hey? Are you alright?" A voice said in my ear and I turned around to face my savior. Blues eyes peered at me through the blue helmet and I could bet all the money I had that there was blond hair underneath it. I had seen this man's face a hundred times on TV and had even read about him in a few of my history textbooks.

Captain America had saved my life.

"I'm..you're...you're-" I stammered.

"Hang on!" He interrupted and pulled me close to him, sticking his shield in front of us. Bullets pinged uselessly against the metal for a few seconds before he threw his shield out once more and the shots ceased.

"Captain America!" I finished and he nodded. Just then a second explosion rocked the street, showering us with bits of gravel.

"I'll cover you! If you go down the alley you should be able to escape!" He pointed to the right of the building and I ducked into it before anyone else came after us. It was only after I was off the street that I realized I never thanked him.

 _Saved by a class-A hunk and you couldn't even get his number?_ I could hear Hannah's voice in my mind and tears started flowing down my cheeks, escalating into loud, messy sobs within seconds. Staggering much as she had but for an entirely different reason, I carried on down the alleyway, stopping only to abandon my ruined shoes in one of the dumpsters. They had cost me eighty dollars but at that moment I would've traded every pair of shoes I owned just to see Hannah again.

I blindly rounded the corner that would've led to safety had it not been for the three armed men blocking my path. I once again found myself with a gun aimed at my chest - only this time there were two more.

"Please! I just need to get home, maybe to a hospital!" I could feel a few really bad scrapes along my arms and back from the debris and I was about ninety percent sure I had stepped on broken glass as well.

"Don't move!" The guy in the middle ordered and I wondered if all these men were robots programmed with only one thing to say. He moved his arm slightly and the emblem on his flak jacket was revealed to me.

"Hey, isn t that S.H.I.E.L.D.'s logo?" In response to my discovery and having three guns aimed at me, I made a fatal flaw and took a step away from them. I felt the bullet long before I heard it.

It hit the bottom of my ribcage and I felt my knees give out as a numb sort of pain took over my abdomen. I didn't do some dramatic movie star fall so much as just flopping to the ground like a dead fish. I couldn't even move my hand to cover the wound as I watched my blood trickle into a storm drain not far from where I lay. In what must've been a hallucinatory state brought on by the blood loss, I could've sworn I saw a man with a black mask and metal arm take out the three men who had confronted me. I was unconscious before I could get a better look.

It felt like just seconds later that I opened my eyes to find myself in a brightly lit room hooked up to far too many machines. I stared out the window for a while until a doctor bothered to check in on me. He showed me a bunch of x-rays of a chest (mine) that highlighted the fact that the bullet had broken a rib before lodging itself in my left lung, but fortunately the damage was fairly minimal. He pronounced me "super lucky" to be alive given the situation I had found myself in and even added that it was probably a good thing I had been such a party pooper and chose to leave early. Okay, he didn't quite phrase it that way, but I read between the lines. He mentioned the fact that while I wouldn't have to spend too long in the hospital, recovery would be slow and to abstain from any long distance running as I would have difficulty catching my breath for a while. I assured him that I would put any potential marathons on hold and he left, but not before propping my bed up more and handing me the remote for the TV in the corner. I turned it on, not so much out of boredom but to drown out the beeping from the machines. It was really starting to get on my nerves.

I flipped through channels for a bit before landing on the local news and my finger froze above the channel button. They were covering the attack. There was raw footage of the scene, clearly taken from a helicopter, which showed firefighters attempting to control the blaze over the hall. Two other buildings on either side had been damaged in the attack and survivors had yet to be recovered. Hannah? Dead. The professor she had tried to hook me up with? Dead. Everyone else who had been there that night? Dead. Everyone except me, that is. I considered turning it off but the reporter was suddenly interviewing a representative from S.H.I.E.L.D. and my interest was once more peaked. The man claimed that S.H.I.E.L.D was working hard to apprehend the people who had done it. I felt my anger rise exponentially at his claim; it was S.H.I.E.L.D agents who had shot at me and I would put money on that they had set off the bombs as well. Frustrated with the world, I shut off the TV, threw the remote to the opposite end of the room and got to my feet. The room felt too stuffy and all at once hard to breathe in, I needed to get outside. After ripping as many tubes off my arms as I could, I made it about as far as the door before a burning pain spread through my chest like fire, effectively halting my efforts.

I was out of the hospital a week later. It would've been sooner had there not been the minor setback of a fluid build up in my lungs ("You were exerting yourself too much!" The doctor had said disapprovingly). I had spent every spare moment exclaiming how great I felt to anyone who would listen until they let me leave. I certainly didn't feel well enough to be leaving the hospital but I couldn't stand the endless wave of visitors anymore, offering their sympathies about Hannah's death and my condition. I didn't want their condolences; I wanted them to bring her back. I cabbed back to my apartment after the complimentary wheelchair ride out of the hospital because I refused everyone's offer of a ride and my car wasn't with me; it had probably been another casualty of the explosion. At least so I thought, until I noticed it sitting in its usual spot in my apartment's parkade. There were numerous dents and scratches in the paint but otherwise it seemed fairly drivable. It had to have been, it couldn't have flown there and none of my family members had mentioned getting it towed. I dug through my purse quickly and realized my key ring was missing, but luckily the building manager was onsite and I begged him to give me the spare key.

"Can't your friends just let you in?" He said as he dug through his desk for it. I blanched instantly, he knew Hannah was dead and there was no one else I could think of who would be in our apartment.

"Sorry?"

"You know, the ones taking care of your bird. Unless, that was meant to be a surprise or something." He gave me a wink and pressed the small key into my hand. I took the elevator, my lungs were still not up to par, and dreaded every floor that went past. I had escaped death twice, and now it seemed I couldn't run from it anymore. I had no idea who or what was going to be waiting for me, but either way it wasn't going to be good.

I stood outside the door to my apartment for a solid five minutes trying to work up the nerve to go in, my hands shook as I slipped the key into the lock. I twisted the knob slowly and pushed the door in, praying that whatever death was in store for me would be a quick one. The apartment was set up so the main door led into the living room and the kitchen lay just to its left. Most of the lights were off except for the one in the kitchen and my vantage point allowed me to see the two men huddled around my table before they saw me. I didn't recognize them right off the bat; they were faced away from me and wearing casual clothes: hoodies, jeans, and ball caps pulled low over their foreheads. They didn't look up until I tentatively shut the door behind me, and as soon as they did I felt my jaw drop.

Captain America and the metal armed man were sitting at my kitchen table.


	2. Chapter 2

I only own my own character, and reviews are appreciated.

* * *

"Ummm, I'm not interrupting something am I? I don't mean to barge in on my own house like this but…" I said weakly to my uninvited guests. I bit back my fear and moved to stand in front of the table.

"I apologize for this but we had nowhere left to go. Hydra's on our ass and they've swept every other safe spot we had. This was our best option on such short notice." Captain America answered and I blanked for a moment and struggled to remember his real name. Stan? Stu? Richard?

"But how did you know how to get here and that it was even my apartment?"

"You're one of those people who keep their whole lives in their purse. We grabbed your keys and any other useful information before calling an ambulance."

"Oh well I suppose I should thank you for that...Thanks?" It felt awkward saying it to the two men who had invaded my privacy and broken into my house.

"I guess we should introduce ourselves, even though you seemed to have a pretty good idea who I was back at that hall." He shot me a mischievous grin and held out his hand.

"Well it's nice to officially meet you, Captain America." I said shaking his hand.

"'Steve will do just fine." I had been close. Maybe.

"My name's Ilse...Although I'm guessing you knew that prior to breaking and entering my house."

"You got it. And this is my friend Bucky, one of the reasons we're in hiding." He gestured over to Mr. Metal arm who nodded at me in acknowledgement.

"I guess the least I could do for you guys after saving my life is to let you crash here for a few days until you figure out where you're gonna go next." I said taking a seat on the kitchen counter. "One of you will have to sleep on the couch but Hann-" I stopped myself and took a deep breath. "My old roommate's room is currently free so one of you can stay in there as well. I can't guarantee much in the cleanliness department but I'm afraid I didn't have much warning and it shouldn't be all too bad..." I tried to remember if I had done the laundry yet or not.

"That's very kind of you and we'll gladly take you up on your offer. Unfortunately, once the few days are up, you're going to have to come with us." Steve spoke carefully.

"What do you mean?" My heart started to pound. Steve and Bucky exchanged a look.

"You're the only living witness that could place S.H.I.E.L.D. at the scene of the crime. They made damn sure that no one else had lived and tried their best to...dispose of you as well. As soon as they find out you're out of the hospital, they'll be after you. I can't guarantee you full safety, but it'll be better than if you stay behind."

"Can't I just cut my hair and change my name or something? My family is here, my job is here…My life is here! I'm not about to just pick up and leave all that behind."

"They'd see through that in a second. Don't worry, we'll keep you somewhere safe and you can return once this is all over." He expected me to trust them, which under normal circumstances, I would've. But when you've been shot by those who promised to protect you, trusting doesn't come so easy. Steve must've had some inkling about what was going on in my mind because he took the extra measure of reassuring me that they had indeed been taking care of my bird. How kind.

"I think I'm gonna go lie down for a little bit. Doctor's orders, I need a lot of rest still." My head had started to pound and I didn't want to mention how overwhelmed I was with the whole situation. And I made a promise to myself in that moment not to open up to these guys, just in case.

"Okay, take it easy, we've got a big journey ahead of us. And please don't take off any of the blankets covering the windows, they don't protect against heat signatures, but it stops anyone from getting a good visual." Steve said and I nodded. I had noticed the fact that every square inch of my limited window space had been blacked out. I wondered how long I'd last before going stir crazy from the lack of natural light. It gave me an uneasy feeling to turn my back to them and I didn't let my guard down until my bedroom door was firmly shut behind me. I briefly debated locking it, but Bucky could just punch straight through it if he really wanted to get in, so there was no point.

I didn't mean to fall asleep, but the next thing I knew I was sprawled out on my bed and someone was shaking my shoulder. For one brief, glorious moment I forgot all about my visitors until I rolled over and found myself staring directly up at Bucky. His hand was over my mouth in an instant, muffling my startled shriek.

"Don't." He warned quietly, only removing his hand once he was sure I wasn't going to make any more noise.

"Sorry, you scared me." I whispered as I untangled myself from my blankets.

"He wants to talk to you." It took me a second to realize he meant Steve.

"Okay, I'll be out in a minute." Bucky nodded at my response and made his way back towards the hallway when a thought entered my mind. "You were the one who killed the guys who shot me, weren't you? You saved my life too."

Bucky didn't respond; just hesitated by the door for a few seconds before walking out and leaving me alone once more. I collected my thoughts and followed him out, determined to figure out just what had happened.

"Did you have a good rest?" Steve asked kindly. He was still at the kitchen table which made me wonder if he had moved at all during my nap. I didn't even know how long I'd been out for; the kitchen clock read 9:30 but without outside light cues, I didn't know if that was morning or night.

"Yeah, it was alright. Bucky said you wanted to talk to me." It felt weird calling Mr. Metal arm his real name aloud. The name didn't really fit his current appearance.

"I just want to know what happened - from your perspective that is. What do you remember?"

I took a seat across from him at the table. "Well, pretty much as soon as I left the party the building exploded and then some guy tried to shoot me but you stopped him, so I went down that alleyway and another guy actually did shoot me and then Bucky stopped him. That's about it."

"Do you remember anything odd happening before you left? Did anybody look suspicious or out of place?"

"No, I don't think so. It was your average university fundraiser dinner. Everyone looked pretty normal and scholarly."

"Hmm..."

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just that doesn't help explain why they targeted the university."

"But you guys were there, were they after you?"

"I don't think so. Yes, we were nearby, but not directly at the university."

"So you're telling me they killed over a hundred people for the hell of it? That doesn't sound like something S.H.I.E.L.D. would do. I mean, they're the good guys right?" I said and Bucky and Steve exchanged a look. "Right?"

"I think there's a lot you don't understand about S.H.I.E.L.D. right now."

"Tell me then."

"We will, soon. There's other things to focus on at the moment." Steve's phone rang just as he finishing saying this and he left the room to go take the call. I looked over to Bucky who had stayed quiet during the whole exchange.

"You guys suck at making me feel better about this."

"It's not our job to." He retorted.

"Well it's just kind of hard to trust you when I don't know what's going on."

"That's not my problem."

"Like hell it is! You took down three guys singlehandedly, how am I supposed to know you aren't gonna change your mind and crush my head with that freaky metal arm of yours? At least Steve looks normal!" All my anxiety and pent-up frustrations burst out in what culminated into a really low blow. I crossed a line big time, that much was evident from the look on his face as he pushed himself back from the table and left the room. Part of me wanted to go apologize, but the other part of me wondered what good it would do. The damage was done, I was officially the biggest asshole in the greater tristate area.

"Nat's found a place for us to stay in – where's Bucky?" Steve re-entered the room and looked confused by Bucky's empty seat. I was surprised he hadn't heard our argument, but then again, at his age his hearing might be a bit off.

"Pouting in the other room, I suspect. I might've insulted his arm." Steve frowned at me but didn't push the subject.

"Right, well Natasha thinks it's best we leave tomorrow night, sooner than I expected but it gives you enough time to pack. Is there anyone you know who can look after your bird?" God bless him, he was actually concerned about the parakeet I bought because we couldn't have a dog in the apartment.

"Yeah, I can phone my sister. What am I supposed to tell her about where I'm going? I can't just disappear, that tends to concern most people's families."

"Tell her you need to get away for a little bit to recover. Your best friend just died and you were almost killed – I think she'll understand." It wasn't a bad idea. I borrowed Steve's phone (my cell had been missing since the explosion) and locked myself in the bathroom to call my sister. I made up a long winded excuse about taking an exotic vacation to free my mind and find myself again. It sounded pretty lame, but she was all about those sort of things and wished me well on my journey and promised to look after the bird until I returned. Just as I had hung up and was about to snoop through Steve's contact list, someone knocked on the door.

"One second." I grumbled and climbed out of the bathtub, where reception was best, to open the door. It was Bucky, looking just as pissed as he had in the kitchen, but perhaps a tad more uncomfortable. "Did Steve send you to find me again? Am I not allowed to be on my own anymore?"

"He didn't." He replied and stared pointedly at me until I got the hint. He just needed to use the bathroom.

"Oh, sorry. All yours." I slipped past him and went to go find Steve so I could return his phone. He was standing in the living room, petting my bird through the bars of her cage.

"Her name's Audrey." I said and he looked over at me and smiled.

"As in 'Audrey Hepburn'?"

"No, as in the man-eating plant from Little Shop of Horrors. She's a biter." I rolled up my sleeve to show him the scars on my hand and he removed his fingers from the cage rather quickly.

"Right, well, did your phone call go alright?"

"Yeah," I handed his cell back to him. "My sister agreed to watch her and accepted my need of self-discovery on the one condition that I stay away from any hallucinogenics."

"I'll make sure you keep that promise." He teased as he put his phone back into his pocket.

"I think those will be the least of my worries where we're going." I stated and he sobered up.

"You're not going to die. You'll be safe, I promise."

"You can't promise me that. Captain America or not, you can't promise anyone that."

"Well I'll try my hardest to keep you alive then. Just try not to make it too difficult for me." He strode past me out of the room and I realized that I wasn't going to be able to promise him that either.


	3. Chapter 3

I only own my own characters,

And, as usual, reviews are always appreciated.

* * *

I had figured that leaving everything behind would've been the hardest part of having to leave. Unfortunately, Drill Sergeant Steve supervising my packing gave that notion a run for its money.

"I can't just bring one pair of shoes, Steve. All I'm asking is for a pair of runners and a pair of flats!"

"It has to fit into one bag! They'll have toothbrushes and soap and all that, all you need is a few changes of clothing, _stop adding extras_!"

"I can't bring my crocheting, I can't bring my sudoku book, next you're gonna tell me I can only bring one pair of underwear."

"They can provide all that when we get there, you're just hiding out for a while, not moving in!"

"I'd still like a few comforts of home to keep me from completely losing my mind _._ Now put that ipod back where it was or so help me God I will shove it up your ass!"

Bucky was the only one amused by the argument and, to my chagrin, took Steve's side more often than not and was quite happy to empty out what was deemed to be "unnecessary extras" from my duffel bag. This included the small box of magnetic balls I found in my bedside table.

"But, Steve, they're buckyballs! Theyre obviously not for me, they're for Bucky! I wonder if they'd stick to his arm..." I couldn't follow through with this plan, however, as the box was torn from my grasp and thrown so hard across the room that they dented the wall. I kept my mouth shut after that and both men left me alone to finish up. I took a moment for one last stroll around the apartment, and said what felt like a final goodbye to my little home before I brought my stuff to the front door. In the living room I found Bucky rifling through my CD collection and Steve giving extra food to Audrey.

"Ready to go?" Steve asked, putting the bird food in plain view of the cage so my sister would know where to look.

"Yeah. You know, you could bring the bird if you really wanted to. She wouldn't be too much of a hassle."

"No pets, Fury's orders." Steve smiled and, ever the gentleman, carried my bag for me. That left me with my purse and, so he wouldn't feel left out, I gave Bucky the house key to hold onto. As we waited for him to lock up, a sudden thought crossed my mind.

"How are we getting to this safe house anyway? We're not taking my car are we?"

"No, not only is that thing barely functional, but it's also very traceable. Nat's picking us up, she should be here already." He checked his phone for confirmation and nodded. As soon as Bucky put the key under the welcome mat and rejoined the group, we headed downstairs and out to where a very expensive looking car was waiting for us.

"Right, and my vehicle is too conspicuous." I said, rolling my eyes. The passenger side window rolled down and the redheaded driver leaned across the seat to talk to us.

"Ready to go, kids?" She said with a smirk as Steve put my bag in the trunk.

"Only if I get shotgun." He said before pausing to open the back door for me. The benefit to the backseat was I didn't have to make small talk with someone I didn't know. The downside was I had to sit next to Bucky.

"We can play 'I spy'." I offered as he settled into the seat next to me.

"How about you don't talk for the rest of the ride. That sounds like a better game."

"You're so boring." I snapped and he responded with something in Russian that I didn't understand, but definitely made Natasha's eyes widen.

"What did he say?" I demanded and she shook her head.

"Trust me, you'll be a lot happier not knowing."

"Yeah but it's hard to kick his ass if I don't know what he - _don't give me that look!"_ I turned my attention back to Bucky who had an annoyingly smug look on his face and it was then I noticed his lack of regard for road safety. "Aren't you going to put your seat belt on? I'm not gonna catch you when you go flying through the windshield if we have to stop suddenly."

"He'd break the road before it broke him." Natasha answered as we finally pulled out onto the highway. I thought this through for a moment before inching myself as far away from him as I could. I managed to engage Steve in a half-hearted game of "punch buggy" but that ended quickly once I realized he was better at spotting them and that even his lightest punches hurt really bad. I gave up all possible forms of entertainment and leaned my head back on the seat and closed my eyes. I was out like a light and had what felt like a blissful few moments of rest before something hard collided with the side of my head. It was Bucky's shoulder.

"What was that for?" I whined, rubbing the sore spot on my temple. I had tipped over at some point and had been using his arm as pillow.

"You were mumbling." He answered simply.

"I was not….Was I?" I said, horrified, and was met with only silence, confirming my fears. "What did I say?"

"Nothing we'll hold against you, don't worry." Natasha replied and glanced at me in the rear view mirror . "Don't go back to sleep, we're almost there."

"Just five more minutes, I promise." I wasn't eager to spill anymore secrets but I was still exhausted. I had just closed my eyes again when she swore loudly after what felt like a number of very quick turns.

"What?" I sat upright and looked out the window. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

"See that car behind us? The one being careful to stay at a distance? I've been watching it for a while and it hasn't budged in its position once, no matter how many back roads I take."

"Meaning?"

"It means we're being followed. Hang on, I'm just gonna take a bit of a detour." Natasha spun the car around suddenly and drove straight down the wrong lane of the highway. Several other cars followed suit.

"I really hope you know what you're doing." I squeaked, hanging on to the seatbelt for dear life.

"Don't worry, this is a piece of cake." She took a random exit that turned into a bumpy gravel road that seemed to lead into a treed pathway. Just as it seemed that maybe luck would be on our side, a fallen tree blocked the road ahead.

"Shit, shit, shit." Natasha swore, trying her best to reverse us out of there, but it was too late. A hefty looking sedan was heading straight for us with no apparent plan to stop. And Steve and I's side of the car was directly in its path. I had barely a second to register what was happening before we were hit, but in one swift movement Bucky threw himself between me and the car door, taking the full force of the impact. The car rolled several times before coming to rest on its hood. As I slipped in and out of consciousness, I struggled to find the buckle of my seatbelt while taking deep gulps of air that didn't seem to be reaching my lungs at all. I manage to find the button and released the belt, causing me to slam down onto the roof with a jolt that sent pain radiating through my right arm. It was too hard to tell where everyone else was, and I certainly didn't see Bucky, so I pulled myself out of the broken window on the opposite side of the car with my one good arm. It was apparent almost immediately that the car that hit us was sent to stop us while the others caught up. No other vehicle was in sight apart from the two smoking wrecks and I didn't see the driver of the other car. I did hear a strange banging noise from behind the sedan, though. A louder sounding groaning noise took priority though. I limped over to the front of car just as Natasha climbed out of the door. She didn't seem too badly hurt, and neither did Steve, who emerged from the other side with his shield.

"Where the fuck were you hiding that? In your pants?" I asked incredulously and he opened his mouth to speak, but one colossal bang caught our attention. Natasha pulled out her gun and Steve raised his shield as they slowly approached the other vehicle. I opted to stay back and offer moral support if necessary. Before either of them could reach it, Bucky emerged from behind, with a surprisingly cold expression on his face. Steve went to check behind the vehicle and came back looking sickened. I suspect what he saw was the result of the combination of the banging noises we had heard and the other driver. Natasha kept her gun at shoulder height and took careful aim as Bucky walked past her.

"Nat, put the gun down." Steve said quietly, but he didn't sound so sure of himself.

"No." She replied and kept it aimed at Bucky's back. "Stay away from her!"

I looked up to see that Bucky had started to head in my direction, but froze and then turned back to face her.

"Ilse, get behind me." Natasha ordered and I hesitated only for a second.

"Natasha, he's fine." Steve snapped.

"We don't know that." Her voice was steady but there was genuine fear in her eyes.

"I do. He just needs a minute to cooloff. He's not the enemy, Natasha, he's not who we need to be focusing on right now." Steve said and yet no one budged an inch. Bucky glared at Natasha who glared back at Bucky while Steve glared at Natasha and I just stared at my feet because it wasnt my argument. We remained in this tense little formation for a few more minutes until Natasha slowly lowered her gun and I sank to the ground with a huff. The adrenaline was wearing off and everything was starting to ache. Bucky glared at Natasha for a few seconds more before turning on his heel and heading off towards the road we came from. Steve helped me back onto my feet as Natasha did a quick assessment of our car; quick because it was obvious that it wasn't going to take us anywhere. We grabbed what we could from it and waited just out of sight on the side of the road for help to arrive. After a few minutes, Bucky came back and shook his head at Steve's quizzical look.

As we waited, we took the opportunity to do a quick injury assessment. Steve and Bucky had only minor cuts and bruises, Natasha had it the worst and yet complained the least, she suffered a sprained shoulder, puncture wounds on her face and arm from broken glass, and what she suspected was a couple of broken ribs. Thanks to Bucky's quick thinking, my worst injuries were a sprained wrist and bruised ribs. While we didn't have any first aid to take care of these injuries, the medical kit got lost in the accident, the clothes I had brought were quickly torn into strips for impromptu bandages.

"Don't worry, I'll take you shopping later." Natasha promised as she bound up a particularly nasty looking cut on her forearm. Both Steve and Bucky refused any help for their scrapes, even though I was slightly concerned about a gash across Steve's forehead that didn't seem to want to stop bleeding.

"It'll heal soon enough. The serum pretty much guarantees a fast recovery time." He said, waving away my worries.

"That's what made you Captain America, right?" I had a vague understanding of the process from class, but had never actually bothered to go to his exhibit at the Smithsonian.

"More or less."

"Huh, I don't suppose there's any left to share?"

"You're looking at the last batch." He said simply and I left it at that. We didn't have to wait long before Natasha's phone buzzed and we were free to go. Our back up had taken out our pursuers back up with hostages to spare. At the very least, I hoped we'd find out just who was tailing us. We continued onto our safe house and managed to arrive in one piece. Although I did notice they loaded Bucky into a separate, more heavily armed vehicle than the rest of us. I made a mental note to ask Steve what was up with all the high security around him.

Our home away from home was more or less a well hidden bunker made almost entirely of concrete and steel. It was all very cold and militaristic, but that sort of guaranteed we weren't going to be easily found. There weren't too many other people with us, the notables being Agent Hill and Sam Wilson, both of whom knew the others quite well. Head Honcho, Nick Fury, was out on some mission and wouldn't be back to see us for a while. I was shown to my room which was unsurprisingly bare aside from the essentials; a bed, wardrobe, vanity table, and one lone office chair. The walls were an odd shade of gray that was both strangely bright and exceedingly dull at the same time. At least I had my own bathroom.

"Settling in alright?" A voice came from my doorway and I turned to see Steve leaning against the wall.

"Oh yeah, I was just unpacking." I threw my mostly empty duffel bag onto the floor and kicked it under the bed. "All done."

"I was just coming down to see if you wanted to get any dinner."

"Sure, I'm getting pretty hungry." That was a lie, but I hadn't eaten in a while and didn't need to be passing out from low blood sugar. We made our way to the dining room (although it looked more like a cafeteria) and each filled a couple of metal trays with sort of identifiable, but not too identifiable, foods that were laid out on warming trays. Most of the tables were empty, so we just grabbed one that was farthest away from the other diners.

"Where's Natasha and Bucky?" I looked around, suddenly realizing their absence.

"Nat's getting her injuries check out, she'll be back later. Which reminds me, you should get the wrist looked at." He nodded at the offending hand which I had poorly bound up with a sock.

"Yeah, later. And Bucky?"

"They're checking him out too….but for different reasons." Steve's eyes darkened as he angrily pushed mashed potatoes around his tray.

"What reasons?

"Assessing his threat level." Steve clearly didn't agree with this and I remembered how strongly he had defended Bucky back at the crash site. And it also hit me that I really didn't know a whole lot about the guy.

"What's his story anyway? Why is everyone so tense around him? Apart from the obviously deadly arm, that is."

"Do you know anything about him?"

"From what I've read in books, you had a friend named Bucky pre-world war two, but he was presumed dead after a mission so he can't be the same guy."

"He is. He was experimented on by Hydra and whatever they did to him allowed him to survive the fall that everyone thought killed him. He was put into cryostasis and then trained to be an assassin. Bucky doesn't remember a whole lot about who he used to be, Natasha and I have just barely gotten him to understand that he's more than just the Winter Soldier."

"That sucks."

"Yeah, and past actions have established him as a bit of a threat to our safety so even our people aren't keen on having him with us. He's been used as a weapon against us one too many times."

"And what are your thoughts on how dangerous he is."

"Well I know what he's capable of, but I also know who he was before all this happened and I still think that part of him is in there somewhere. If we can just get some of his memories back, that could make a world of difference. But I don't even know if that's possible." Steve looked sad so I reached out and patted his hand gently. Our moment was interrupted by Agent Hill who plopped down on the seat beside Steve with a heavy sigh.

"Are you done with that? I'm starving." She pointed towards my barely touched meal and I pushed it in her direction. "Steve, you'll be glad to know they've decided to let Bucky stay, but he has to be under surveillance and kept on a different floor than us at night."

"Great. And what have they found about the people who followed us?" Steve asked and Hill stopped shovelling food in her mouth for a second and looked disappointed.

"Not much beyond the fact that they're from a subdivision of Hydra. They all had hidden cyanide pills. Offed themselves before we could get anything more."

"Damn, that gets us nowhere. What is Hydra planning? First the university bombing and now this?"

"Hydra? I'm a little lost over here." I said and both of them snapped out of their little bubble and took notice of me once more.

"Hydra forces have infiltrated SHIELD, they did quite a while ago apparently. Unfortunately, the public is still under the guise that SHIELD is the good guys, and it looks like Hydra is planning to keep it that way as long as possible." Hill briefly explained and I nodded although I still wasn't quite sure I knew what they were talking about. A voice over her radio called her back up to somewhere on the fourth floor and she groaned and waved goodbye before setting off at a fast pace. Nobody around here walked at a normal speed.

"If you're done we can try and go find Nat." Steve said and I tilted my head towards the empty tray Hill left behind. We handed the trays off to a bored looking worker and set off to find the clinic. After twenty minutes of aimlessly walking around, it became clear that neither one of us knew where to go. Thankfully we bumped into Natasha who was leaving the medicentre with her arm in a sling and several bandages on her face. The moment we turned a corner, she yanked the sling off and threw it in a nearby trash can.

"I hate when they give me those." She complained, but proceeded to wince every time she moved her arm too much."

"You'd heal faster if you left it on." Steve pointed out.

"Shut up."

"Do you know where they're keeping Bucky?" I asked and Natasha raised her eyebrow at me.

"Yeah, we can go see him if you'd like."

"Steve wants to as well." I added and she gave Steve a look that he didn't return.

"All right, weirdos, follow me and I'll take you to see your pit bull." She counteracted her words with a smile and led the way. She took us up past a few well-guarded doors and down a long hallway full of rooms that looked more like prison cells and were all empty except for one at the end. Bucky sat on the bed inside it, staring at the wall until we entered.

"Hey, Buck. How you holding up?" Steve asked taking a seat beside him and he shrugged in response. He wasn't chained down or anything, but it was obvious that he was good as captive.

"Have you eaten anything?" I asked, taking a peek around his room. It was very well padded and devoid of anything that could be used as a weapon. Not even a pencil in sight.

"No." Finally, a verbal response.

"Let's go get you food then." I turned anxiously to Natasha. "He is allowed to leave right?"

"Yeah, he can leave his room. I think they knew Steve would throw a fit if they said otherwise." Natasha said with a shrug. I wondered who the elusive "they" was, but decided to let it pass when I realized it was probably just other SHIELD agents who weren't on Hydra's side. We made our way back down to the cafeteria, which had gotten fuller since we'd left, and immediately all conversation ceased as we walked into the room. News travels fast and I could bet on the fact that everyone in the room knew what Bucky had done to the driver.

"Steve, find us a table, I'll take Bucky to go get a tray." I said and tugged lightly on Bucky's arm to get him to follow me over to where the food was. He complied, but made sure to glower at everyone we passed. I left him to decide on what to eat while I tracked down a set of cutlery and a napkin. When the person handing them out saw who they were for, he refused to give me anything but a plastic spoon. I had to distract him by knocking over a stack of glasses so I could quickly pocket a knife and fork while he wasn't looking. I made my way back over to where Bucky stood contemplating the steamed broccoli and held the cutlery out to him.

"Here, make sure you hide the fact you have these. Hello?" He wasn't paying attention to what I was saying. "Earth to Bucky? I just saved you the hassle of eating steak with a spoon." I reached out and, just as I had minutes before, placed my hand on his arm to get his attention. Only this time he wasn't expecting it.

In seconds he had thrown his tray on the floor and twisted my arm off of his, holding it awkwardly out at my side and squeezing it painfully tight.

"Bucky, it's me, it's Ilse." I said through gritted teeth as my shoulder creaked in protest. He glared down at me with a cold, flat gaze that held no recognition. After a few more agonizingly slow seconds, something flickered behind his eyes and he dropped my arm as if it burned him and took a step away.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He said and any coldness in his face was replaced with regret and, for the first time since I'd met him, fear. Fear that he actually could've hurt me without even meaning too.

"It's okay, I shouldn't have startled you like that. I'm not hurt, don't worry." I said. I bent down to pick up the tray he'd dropped but was instantly yanked back to my feet by two agents. Three more were in the process of trying to cuff Bucky.

"Stop! You're gonna hurt him!" I screamed and struggled futilely against the hold I was in. Bucky was having more luck and managed to knock down two out of the three agents before a fourth one came over and zapped him with some sort of taser that incapacitated him enough that they could get the handcuffs on.

"Let him go!" I felt the grip on my arms release as whoever had been holding onto me staggered away from the force at which Steve pulled them off. He made a move towards the people holding onto Bucky, but the one holding the taser held it up menacingly.

"Stay back, Cap, I'm warning you." The agent said a little too cockily.

"Are you threatening me? Let him go." Steve's voice took on a rougher edge as the man tasered Bucky once more for moving slightly. A larger group of people burst through the doors and helped the two men strap Bucky down to a stretcher. Steve and I's shouts fell on deaf ears as they dragged him out of the room. I couldn't help but wonder if we really were on the right side of SHIELD.


End file.
